The Bad and The Hopeless
by Elionwy
Summary: -Chocolate Covered Strawberry Challenge- Angel meets a person he thought he'd forgotten.... COMPLETE
1. The Portal

---------------------This is a Chocolate Covered Strawberry Challenge. Thank you for reviewing in advance :D.----------------------------  
  
Angel sat behind the desk, humming 'Mandy' under his breath. Or, his not-breath as Cordy   
  
put it. Cordy. It was hard to believe that she wasn't around. Sometimes, he turned his  
  
head and he'd be sure she was sitting on the desk, doing her nails.   
  
Other times he'd hear a voice and be sure it was hers. But it never was.   
  
Wolfram and Hart was affecting him, he knew that it was pretty evil and   
  
sometimes he felt like giving it up, but he could do too much good here to leave.  
  
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy being the boss.   
  
It just felt like although his intentions were good, this law firm had intentions of  
  
its own.  
  
Just then, Lorne strolled in. "Heya Angelcakes," he grinned as only Lorne could grin.  
  
"Listen buddy, we've got a problem on level two. Usually I wouldn't be dealing but Fred's  
  
down in the lab and Wesley's up there keeping the employees quiet."  
  
"He's fighting a losing battle there," said Angel. "What's our problem?"  
  
"Some guy with a big stick threatening to open a portal of some kind.....   
  
you know, that old chestnut."  
  
"Hmmm. Do we know this guy?"  
  
Lorne nodded. "Oh, yeah. He works in the elemental magic department.   
  
He's asking for you, sweetie. We're just holding back the crowds til you come,   
  
he's a pyscho."  
  
Angel groaned as he stood up. "I guess I'm needed, then?"  
  
****************  
  
Wesley held the crossbow directly at the man's heart. "If you try anything, I'll shoot."  
  
The man laughed dryly, twirling the oak staff in his fingers.   
  
"You sound like you're from an old gangster movie," he chuckled.   
  
"I won't do a thing til Angel gets here."  
  
Wesley shifted the crossbow onto his shoulder, still aiming it carefully.   
  
"You won't do anything when he gets here, either."  
  
The man stretched out his arm. "You guys are serious about security here, aren't you?  
  
My beef isn't with Wolfram and Hart. It's with the big man himself."  
  
"Who, Santa Claus?" asked Lorne as he and Angel stepped out of the elevator.  
  
The man glanced at Angel, who frowned at him.  
  
"What are you planning to do? Are you for real, or have we got another joker on our hands?"  
  
The man shook his head. "I'm just the messanger, man."  
  
He threw the arm out holding the staff and held it steady.   
  
"GIGIM BARRA ALAL. TELAL BARRA MASQUIM. UTUQ XUL EDIN NA ZU! ZI ANNA KANPA!   
  
ZI KIA KANPA! NAMTAR ASHAK! MASQIM ALLIE EDIN NA ZU!"  
  
Angel stepped forward. "Hey!"  
  
"KEIGALAL BARRA. MULLA XUL EDIN NA ZU. LILITU BARRA!"  
  
There was a bright light and they were all thrown backwards,   
  
including the man holding the staff- but he left the staff behind. It was floating in   
  
the air, and at the top a swirling green vortex had begun to appear. It grew bigger   
  
and bigger, until it could stand alone and the staff dropped to the ground.  
  
Angel got up. He grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck.   
  
"What did you just do? What happened?" he growled.  
  
The man's eyes grew wide and frightened as he saw Angel's demonic side.  
  
"I didn't know it was so powerful, I swear if I'd known it was this... big,   
  
I wouldn't have taken the job!"  
  
"Job? So working at Wolfram and Hart isn't good enough for you, eh?   
  
You wanted a job on the side?"  
  
"Please don't hurt me!" the man wailed.  
  
Angel put him down but kept his hands on the man's shoulders, and looked into his eyes.  
  
"Who do you work for?"  
  
"I'm innocent! I swear!"  
  
"WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?"  
  
The man trembled as Angel shouted down his ear.  
  
"Please sir, I don't know! They sent me a letter, would I like a job for five   
  
hundred bucks. Told me how to say the words and everything.   
  
But it didn't have a reply address or nothing. Just told me I'd be paid."  
  
Angel let go of the man angrily and turned to the swirling portal.   
  
Wesley was looking into it.  
  
"What do you see?" Angel asked him.  
  
"Nothing," he replied. "Just fog. Dirty fog."  
  
Angel approached the portal. "Hello?" he tried. "Anyone there?"  
  
Lorne picked up a piece of paper from a random table, scrunched it up and chucked  
  
it in. "Just to see where it goes," he said.  
  
Almost immediately, it flew back out again. But this time, it was followed by a dark shadow.  
  
It flew out of the portal and landed hard on the floor beside the three.   
  
It was a human shape. They moved to investigate.  
  
"Are it alive?" asked Wesley.  
  
Angel sniffed the air. "Yes. Let's check them."  
  
He turned over the body and found a man of about his height and build,   
  
black hair and a thick jaw. He was wearing a cotton shirt and trousers.  
  
His eyes flickered. "This one's conscious," said Angel,   
  
and the two others squatted down next to him.   
  
The man groaned, then opened his eyes. "Who-?"  
  
Lorne looked at the man and then at Angel, then back to the man,   
  
then back to Angel, recognition setting in. Angel, too, was frowning at the man that lay  
  
in his arms, brow furrowed in thought.  
  
Wesley touched the man's shoulder.  
  
"What's your name?" he asked quietly, as he started to see the resemblence too.  
  
"My name?" said the man in a croaked Irish accent. My name's Liam." 


	2. Spawn of Satan

Angel turned his head slowly to look at his two friends. Their faces were blank.   
  
"Guys, this is me." he swallowed.   
  
Wesley looked a the frightened man that was lying below them.  
  
"I know.... but how did he get here?"  
  
"Is that all you can say? I'm looking at my double!"  
  
Liam tried to sit up. he stared at Wesley.  
  
"I don't know who yer are," he said shakily. "I don't know where I am. How did I get here?"  
  
He looked at Angel. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
Angel opened his mouth then closed it again.  
  
Liam eyed him suspiciously. "You remind me of someone."  
  
Then he turned to Lorne. he jumped back as if something had hit him.   
  
"Jesus Christ! What the hell is that?"He stared with wild eyes.   
  
Lorne's mouth creased into an embarrassed smile. "I'm not going to hurt you, sugar."  
  
"It talks!"  
  
Angel stood up and helped his clone to his feet.  
  
"How did you get here?" he croaked. This was really, really weird.  
  
Liam was still staring in horror at Lorne. "I don't know, I was in the pub with some mates... where am I?"  
  
Angel smiled humourlessly. "Drinking...."  
  
Liam lifted one eyebrow. "What else do yer do in pubs? And you didn't answer my question."  
  
Angel turned to Wesley. "Should we tell him?" He asked.  
  
"It might be easier if we do, remember we're not talking to a child here, you- I mean, him- he's a fully grown man."  
  
Angel turned back to the young man. "Fine. Question 1. You have been transported through some kind of portal into the 21st century,  
  
and you are in Los Angeles, in America, in a law firm known as Wolfram and Hart."  
  
Liam blinked. "Are you giving me a load of rubbish? I asked for the answer to my question-"  
  
"- and I gave it to you." Angel finished. "Question 2. He's Wesley Wyndham-Price, rogue vampire hunter and ex-Watcher."  
  
Wesley adjusted his tie importantly. Liam could only gape.  
  
"Question 3," Angel continued, and Lorne was impressed at his memory, "That is Lorne, a good friend of mine and of course he talks, that's the whole point to him."  
  
Liam was not convinced. "I think he's a demon from hell. A spawn of Satan."  
  
Lorne muttered indignantly. "Thanks a lot, Angel.... your younger self thinks I'm spawn."  
  
Liam turned back to Angel. "And anyway, who are you? Are you family?"  
  
Angel bit his lip. "Yeah, I'm about as family as you could get."  
  
Liam inspected his fingers. "Yer my descendant, right? Does that mean I married? Damn it, I never want to marry!"  
  
Angel clenched his fist. This was getting worse with the guilt. "Something like that. It's late, you guys, I think we should find somewhere for.... Liam to stay."  
  
Lorne nodded. "I'll take him to one of the guest suites, then we can find out what happened in the morning. We can go now, unless seventeeth century boy here still thinks I'm a green, more smiley version of the devil..."  
  
Liam rolled his eyes, and Wesley saw Angel in him for a moment. Then he said, "If my descendant believes in yer, then I think yer safe. But you better not pull anything. They don't call me Bar Brawl O'Connor for nothing."  
  
they walked away down the corridor, and Angel smiled. "Bar Brawl O'Connor. I remember that one." 


	3. The Descendant

--------------The Bad and The Hopeless Chapter 3!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned Angel I wouldn't be writing this. I would be stroking him.  
  
Author's Note: Heya chums! This enstallmentand the next mean angsty, Liam-and-Angel time, and Gunn  
  
and Lorne get used to life with a seventeeth century man. Now with added obsessions with crosswords!  
  
Dedication: To Tiffany and Mr. Pointy, cork lovers for all eternity.-------------------  
  
Angel was sitting doing a crossword puzzle. It was morning and none of the mortal, sun-worshipping  
  
members of his team were awake yet. He smiled in amusment at five down- 'to be reflective and sorrowful,   
  
to wallow in one's sadness.'  
  
"Broody," said a voice from behind him. It was, of course, Spike, the pessimistic vampire-turned-ghost that   
  
haunted the Wolfram and Hart building.  
  
Angel merely flicked his hand at his disembodied comrade and continued.  
  
"It is not, of course, broody, but gloomy. Get lost."  
  
Spike ran a incorporeal hand through his peroxide-enhanced hair. "Well, fine, you did always have a thing for crosswords.  
  
pretty wierd if you ask me."  
  
"I didn't."  
  
"Fine, then. Is there anything you want me to do, or should I haunt a shower room?"  
  
"Go to hell."  
  
"We *are* angry today, aren't we?" The spirit smirked at his friend. "What's your problem?"  
  
Angel sighed. "A portal opened yesterday, something came out and now we have to figure out how to get him back, OK? Now leave."  
  
Spike looked interested. "What came out?"  
  
"It doesn't matter. We'll sort it."  
  
"What the hell's wrong with you, man? I just wanna know what came out of the portal!"  
  
Just then, the door opened and a young, black haired man skidded into the room.  
  
"Mister Angel, there's a black box in my room, and it makes noises, I believe it's that demon's devil box from hell,   
  
but he says its a radio, and I want to get back, now, please, because I don't like this century!"  
  
He took a breath and waited.  
  
If Spike had any sighs, he would have released one. "Woah. Angel, is it just me, or have you finally got a reflection?"  
  
Angel stood up. "Spike, this is Liam, Liam, this is Spike. Say hello."  
  
Spike gawped at him.  
  
Liam looked Spike up and down. "Your hair is ridiculous, and your name is stupid. Though, perhaps, so are Angel, Wesley and Lorne."  
  
Spike raised a ghostly eyebrow. "Care to tell me who the hell he is?"  
  
"-and he's english. They're a bad lot. Like your Wesley." Liam continued.  
  
"I am not like your Wesley! I mean- Wesley." Spike said indignantly. "Who the bloody hell is he, Angel, 'cos he sure as hell looks familiar."  
  
Angel groaned. "If you can't see the resemblence by now, you are even stupider than I thought. And that's a whole lot of stupid," he added,  
  
please to get an insult in to his old rival. "That's me, at 21. How he got here- I don't know. But i have a feeling whoever it was that sent it meant for this to happen.  
  
He must be from some kind of different dimension."  
  
Liam cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I don't unnerstand," he said, sluring his words slightly. "You said I was you, but that can't be possible. if i was you, then one of us wouldn't be here."  
  
Spike grinned at the exasperated look on Angel's face. "Looks like you were more perceptive than you thought, peaches."  
  
He jumped off the table he was sitting on (well, hovering above) as Angel relised he would have to be straightforward with his former self.  
  
"Well, Liam, you are an earlier version of me, from an alternate universe and time period."  
  
According to the look on Liam's face, that wasn't very straightforward.  
  
"So, I'm you.... wouldn't that make you really old? didn't you say this was the twenty-first century? I don't unnerstand, still."  
  
Angel opened his mouth, but was cut off by Spike who circled Liam and explained, much to his grandsire's dismay:  
  
"Well, you see, mini-peaches, your alter-ego there is really old, he's undead, actually-"  
  
Angel raised his hand to stop him, but he went on.  
  
"But he bagged himself a soul so he runs this place, and sits on his arse all day while we minions do his work." Spike finished, trimumphantly.  
  
Liam stared in horror. "You- you're undead? You're between the living and the- the other side?" he whispered the last bit, as if he was worried he'd wake the dead, or something.  
  
Spike laughed. "A Vampire, actually. 'Course now he just drinks pig's blood, which I used to think tasted like-"  
  
"Spike! That's enough, now. Go and wake the others, if they're not up now they're late for work."   
  
Spike listened to the command impatiently then glided off.  
  
Liam backed away from the vampire with disgust and repulsion. "Keep away from me! Ye're worse than that green devil!"  
  
Angel sighed. "Liam, look- this is you, and I'm sorry we weren't more careful, but here I am, okay? And belive me, it gets worse, then it gets better, then worse, then better..... then worse again I suppose,  
  
but finally better and this is the present. You got used to Lorne, why not get used to me? I am, after all, you."  
  
Liam gulped. "Ok, as long as yer don't eat me... but I was going to do some amazing things with my life."  
  
Angel laughed bitterly. "what? Win a drinking contest? Don't think I don't know what I thought at that age."  
  
Liam scrathed his neck. "This is strange, It's like I don't have any thoughts to myself."  
  
Angel shrugged. "Well, I've forgotten a lot. Don't worry, we'll find a way to get you back to your time, I promise. I just have to find Wesley."  
  
Liam stopped him as he tried to walk out. "Angel- when did it happen?"  
  
Angel knew what he meant. "Five years from your time. And don't think you can stop it," he said as he saw a familiar look forming on Liam's face, "If- when you go back, I doubt you'll have any memory of this."  
  
------------------Review Review review, people! Huh? What? You'll only review if I give you an up next snippet? Ok, then, you've guilted me into it.  
  
Next up: Spike spends some quality time with his pre-grandsire, and Gunn and Wesley (and Fred) get acquaited with mr. O'Connor Jnr, too.  
  
Ciao, until our next meeting,   
  
Elionwy xXx--------------------------------------- 


	4. The Lovely Fred

------------------The Bad and the Hopeless Chapter 4!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Hey! Guess what! I don't own Angel or any of his chums! Duh.  
  
Author's Note: Hmm, the story finally has a plot now. I worked it out. I rule.  
  
Dedication: To whoever threw that iceball at me this morning and damaged one of the tendons in my neck. Thanks a lot.  
  
If a stranger had peered into the window of the main office at Wolfram and Hart that day (which would have been pretty hard as the curtains were drawn all day for obvious reasons)  
  
then they would have seen two men, identical, one green demon, and one other man with brown hair sitting, reading books. They might also have seen a blond ghost.  
  
Angel threw the prophecy he had been leafing through at the wall. "Useless," he declared.  
  
Wesley picked it up and brushed imaginary dirt off it. "Don't treat the books like that, Angel- this one will be useful for something one day, but just yet it isn't very handy."  
  
He slotted it back into the bookcase with all the care of a worried parent.  
  
Liam was pouring over an Irish text. He had proved to be quite a genius at reading Gaelic. Angel said he was sure he could never read when he was alive.  
  
"Remember," Wesley had said, "That Liam comes from another dimension. Some things are bound to be different. He could be from a universe where you were educated, for instance."  
  
Angel went quiet then. Spike reckoned that his grandsire was pissed off at that remark and he, Spike, reveled in it.  
  
Liam suddenly spoke. "Éagfaigh an ghrian agus éireoidh mise."   
  
Lorne's head rose from the parchment he was looking at. "Very nice, but what does it mean?"  
  
Liam shrugged. "'The sun will die and I will rise'. I thought it sounded impressive, anyway."  
  
"yes," said Wes, "But I don't think it's relevant, Liam. Try to stay focused."  
  
Spike concentrated on a pencil as he tried to pick it up. "Yeah, but it sounded cool."  
  
Angel rose from his chair. "I'm going to check on Fred in the lab. I sent them a sample of that portal to analyse, so   
  
I better see how they're getting on."  
  
Liam looked up. "Fred? Finally! Someone with an ordinary name. When will I meet this Fred? He sounds clever."  
  
Everyone except Angel and Liam snickered into their ancient texts.  
  
*******************  
  
He came in a few minutes later with the studious brunette, who was curious to see the new arrival.   
  
Angel put his hands out in front of Fred as if he was performing a show. "Presenting..... the lovely Fred."  
  
Liam stood up. He looked confused. He stared through Fred as if she wasn't there. He even peered behind her to see if 'Fred' was there.  
  
Spike thought it *very* amusing. "Liam, meet Winifred." he smirked. Liam frowned.  
  
"You could have told me," he whined. "Now I've made a fool of meself in front of a lady."  
  
He extended a hand to Fred who took it, blushing. "Pleased to make yer acquaintance, I'm sure."  
  
Wesley spoke, hesistant to break them up. "Come on, now people. Let's get cracking. there's got to be a spell or incantation relevant to this somewhere."  
  
They all went back to their books and Fred to the lab. Alomst immediately, Liam came across and interesting looking spell.  
  
"'maic eisean cuimhnigh a chuid caite, maic eisean barróg a chuid Oidhreacht, Bealtaine seo fan amhlaidh go tútusa tabhair focal'."  
  
"Pardon?" said Spike mildly.  
  
Angel furrowed his brows. "I recognised a few words there. What does it mean?"  
  
Liam looked worried. "In short it means I'll be here for a while."  
  
----------------There's a whole lot of review with your name on it. P.s. If you know Gaelic,  
  
maybe you'll get a hint of the plot before anyone else!  
  
Next up: Liking Liam- it's not easy.  
  
~*Elionwy*~ 


	5. Angel Version 40

---------------The Bad and the Hopeless Chapter 5!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I od ton nwo Legna ro yna fo sih sdneirf. Goddit?  
  
Author's Notes:I'm finally getting into a plot, people. The Fang Gang are trying to adjust to  
  
having an eighteenth century boozer around, and Liam makes friends with a certain hair dye-happy   
  
vamp......  
  
Thanks Carla, star reviewer, this is for you. You wanted Liam/Spike bondings, you get Liam/Spike bondings.  
  
P.S: Do you have off-licences in America? I'll just say you have, shall I? I can't be bothered to think about it or ask anyone.------------  
  
Wesley walked out of the off-licence. He was carrying two bags full of Irish whisky, and they were heavy.  
  
It had been two weeks since Liam O'Connor's arrival at Wolfram and Hart and the liquor seemed to be the Irishman's equivalent  
  
to Angel's blood i.e. the centre of his diet. Wesley lugged the bags back to the L.A law firm and dropped them in the lobby.  
  
Eve looked up from the desk. "You want these dropping off somewhere?" she enquired in her dullset tone.  
  
"Guest.....suite..... number six, please..." Wesley wheezed. He stood for a moment, regained his breath and walked briskly in the direction of Angel's   
  
office as an unlucky employee stepped forward to take the alcohol to its destination.  
  
**********************  
  
"Liam is drinking us out of house and home, Angel!" Wesley moaned to the vampire sitting in front of him. "And it's costing me, too, having to go out all the time.  
  
Why is it always me?"  
  
Angel shrugged. He supposed it was a bit unfair on the Englishman, but he was still sore about losing Connor.  
  
"Fine. I'll talk to him, if you really want. I told you he's a guest, and guests are always first, right?"  
  
Wesley frowned. "If you ask me, he's taking his role as the guest a little far. I'm going out at all hours to buy him drink, Angel, and it's getting on my nerves."  
  
"Send him in," said Angel finally. "I'll talk to him."  
  
Wesley left the room and came back five minutes later with a surly-looking young man.   
  
"I'll go then, shall I?" he asked mildly, and was gone without waiting for a reply.  
  
Angel started to rise from his desk. "Liam, I have to talk to you about your drinking habits..."  
  
Liam looked up, startled. "Me drinking habits? Wha drinking habits?"  
  
Angel pointed to the empty bottle Liam was clutching to and the stain on his white shirt as silent proof.  
  
Liam blushed. "All right, so I like my whisky, but whassit to you anyway?" he slurred pointedly, referring to the fact that he was, in fact,  
  
a younger version of Angel.   
  
"What's it to me? Well, you've been sending my workers out to fetch you booze and they have better things to do!"  
  
"I would do it myself," Liam glowered. "But I can't, can I? You won't let me."  
  
It was true. the ensouled vampire had forbidden the boy to leave the building.   
  
"That's for your own safety, Liam. Who knows what could be waiting to take you and sacrifice you. I mean, your being here is a bit strange.   
  
homocidal demons are bound to take advantage of that."  
  
The former Scourge of Europe shuddered.   
  
Liam picked up Angel's nameplate and played with it so it flashed in the electric light. They had educated him in the simple modern things, such as electricty   
  
and cars already, and he was trying to be used to them.  
  
"I would be safer if I had someone with me." he liked drinking alone, but then he liked drinking in general more. If he couldn't have the sweet, sweet liquor on his own, then   
  
sharing the experience with another soul was a small price to pay.  
  
Angel considered this. "Come off it, Liam. What self-respecting person would want to go down bars with you and watch you get drunk??"  
  
*********  
  
Spike groaned as his human charge tugged on his shoulder. "Come on, Spike. I like the sound of that pub, 'The Celtic Cross'." Liam pleaded with the ghost.  
  
Spike concentrated for a second then pulled him back. "No bloody way, Angel Version 4.0. That's a demon bar, that is. You'll be screaming Hail Mary's at them and you're not exactly as   
  
flexible as me."  
  
Liam pouted. "I'll be good, and not say anything about Angel or the eighteenth century.... please?"  
  
Spike looked at the man, a replica of his eternal in front of the the counter and looked unflinchingly at the blue,   
  
horned and befanged demon wiping a glass that had contained what looked like purple blood.  
  
He stared into the red eyes and tried to pretend this was natural for him, but his insides were screaming 'Death! bad! Run Away!!!'  
  
"can I help you, sir?" asked the bartender. "Guts, blood, Turkish Cocktail?"  
  
Liam had already been informed by Spike that these cocktails were actually made out of Turks.  
  
So, instead of ordering one of the more-exotic- drinks on display, he said the line that he had been rehersing in his head.  
  
"Do you sell any ordinary, common-or-garden alcohol here? I feel like a touch of the human stuff to wet my whistle, you know?" Well, it had sounded good to him.  
  
To his immense relief, the bartender nodded. "Aye, blood's just not the same these days, is it? Nothing to get you hammered like a drop of Irish Whisky..."  
  
Liam nodded vigorously. He had found a kindred spirit, soul or not.  
  
  
  
Several whisky decanters later, and Liam was being *very* friendly with the other customers at The Celtic Cross. He was, in fact, dancing on the table.  
  
To him, it felt just like home and his mates at the Dog and Duck. Well, with added fangs. Spike, in spite of himself, was actually enjoying the evening.  
  
He had almost grown fond of his young charge. he liked the boy's spirit, which was so different to Angel's. Liam was reckless, made fun of himself, and, dammit, he even  
  
got pissed well. Spike had a fleeting thought as to whether Liam smoked. He would quite relish seeing Angel's face as he watched his Mini-Me suck on a tab.  
  
Liam, too, liked the blond vampire. he was sarcastic and pessimistic, and didn't seem to care much about rules or regulations. He was a free bird, and so was Liam.  
  
Without knowing it, they were becoming friends.  
  
*********  
  
There was a suspicious noise from the corner of the bar. Spike turned around and saw the three vampires in deep conversation. They weren't fussed about showing their 'game faces'  
  
and the way they kept sneaking glances at Liam worried him. sudennly one got up and walked over to him.   
  
"You." The vampire said.  
  
Spike eyed him. "Me? Or have you got an invisible friend called Yuri?"  
  
The vampire put his hand out to grab Spike and was surprised when it went straight through him. "yes, you, you stupid ponce. That kid you came with. We reckon he isn't a demon."  
  
"Well," Spike said, adding malice with every word, carefully, "what you reckon doesn't really matter to me. Diud you really think it did?"  
  
the vampire snarled.   
  
"What are you going to do with me? *Kill* me?" there was laughter in Spike's voice.  
  
"No-" The vamp hesitated. "but we'll kill your friend."  
  
Spike stood up sharply and glided quickly to the middle of the bar where he tapped Liam as hard as he could manage.  
  
"Let's go, Liam. Now."  
  
The Irishman heard the force of Spike's voice and, despite his drunken state, followed the ghost out of the bar.  
  
"Why did we have to leave?" he whined when they had reached the cold, refreshing air of the L.A. street.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes as he made his way back to wolfram and Hart. "I just saved your arse, boy. Thank me later."  
  
"Thanks. but I'm not nearly drunk enough." The human giggled. "Say, have you got any money on you for a beer?"  
  
Spike swallowed the snort of pleasure that had risen in his throat at the sound of Angel (looked like Angel, sounded like him) gagging for   
  
alcohol. "No, Liam. I don't have any money. Let's just go home."  
  
Liam stopped. "Do they have elet- electrical security things in shops now?" he said innocently.  
  
Spike turned and looked at the boy (so much like his grandsire!). "Do you mean what I think you mean??"  
  
There's nothing more dignity destroying than waiting outside a liquor store while someone else steals the goods, Spike thought as he tried to lean against a brick wall. Minutes later,  
  
Liam strolled round the corner, whistling. He was carrying two massive bottles.  
  
"Ah got one for ye, mate." He offered a bottle to the vampire.  
  
"Nah, I don't really drink, Liam m'boy." Spike shoved his hand through his chest to demonstrate.  
  
Liam shrugged and ripped the top off, and tipped the liquid down his throat hungrily.  
  
Oh great, Spike thought. He'll be singing all the way home.  
  
------------------------------ wWW. REVIEW .COM .ORG!!!!!!!!   
  
And I mean it, man.  
  
P.S. Please give me some feedback 'cos it's 20:17, bloody cold and snowy, I'm listening to Green Day and Angel's on soon...  
  
Also: someone told me that Spike becomes corporeal in Tonight's episode, but I like him as a ghost so a ghost he will stay.  
  
Wow, I love this song. Might even make a fic about it. Anyway, ciao,  
  
Elionwy xXx 


	6. Happy Drunk

---------------The Bad and the Hopeless Chapter 6!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: What's a disclaimer anyway? Duh. You must know by now I don't own anyone.  
  
Author's Notes: What do you get when you add three shifty vampires and a drunken 250-year-old man? Well why don't you find out?  
  
Dedication: To Rebecca, who is always trying to convince me that dance music is good. Alas, Becca, you failed.  
  
Spike sat in his chair. he had his head down in a disgraced manner, and Angel was standing above him.  
  
"Stealing! I didn't think you would stoop as low as that, Spike- why didn't you just come back and ask for more money?"  
  
Spike got up and glared into his grandsire's face. "You told me to tail the boy, and I did. I stuck next to him. I wasn't about to leave him, was I? It's not my  
  
fault your kid gets kicks out of nicking booze."  
  
Angel glared back. "Why didn't you force him to leave with you?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and stuck his arm through Angel's chest. "Oh, yeah. I'm so forceful."  
  
If Angel's face contained any blood it would have flushed. "Well, okay... I suppose we did return what he took. And you *were* doing what I told you to.  
  
There's just one thing I weant to clear up."  
  
Spike turned his head. "What's that?"  
  
Angel chuckled. "I accuse you of enjoying yourself."  
  
Spike grinned. "Guilty. It reminded me of old times, you know?"  
  
Angel nodded. "God help me, it reminds me of old times."  
  
*********  
  
Liam raised the bottle in greeting as Wesley entered the guest suite. "Howdy, my man."  
  
The Irishman had found himself another passion; old, black-and-white cowboy films. And the guest suites of Wolfram and Hart had an endless supply of the Westerns.  
  
Wesley frowned at him. The young man had drunken himself into a stupor, again.   
  
"Liam, Angel wants to see you. I think you should go."  
  
Liam grinned, showing off his teeth. "If this is about las' night, I already told him I was sorry an' everything...."  
  
Wesley shook his head. "No, he wants to see you about something else. Now go, I have important things to do, and I don't have time to play the messenger."  
  
Liam wolf-whistled cheekily, and sauntered out.  
  
Angel peered over the report he had been reading to see his younger self standing casually in front of the desk.  
  
"Wasssup, brother?" Liam boomed, using one of his favourite Gunn-sayings.  
  
Oh great, thought Angel. He's happy-drunk.  
  
"Liam.... Spike said he would take you out again tonight if you wanted." Angel looked at him cautiously.  
  
"'Kay." said Liam in reply.  
  
Really, he was like a petulant child when stoned. "Is that all you can say?" Angel demanded.   
  
Liam raised an eyebrow. "It's not like he's risking his *life* for me, is it?"  
  
Angel couldn't help but grin. He really was a sharp lad.  
  
"Well, no. but you should at least be grateful that i'm letting you go out, after last night."  
  
Liam swayed on his feet. "Ye sound like me dad."  
  
The peroxide-blonde vampire kicked the blood and alcohol stained table. As predicted, his foot went straight through.  
  
Liam staggered back to where they were sitting. "You know why I feel sorry for you?" he declared to Spike.  
  
Spike watched him as he plonked himself down and started to drink the glass he had been holding. "what's that then?"  
  
"You can't drink! Ha!" Liam glugged the liquid down.   
  
Spike was automatically drawn to the sight of those three vampires in the corner. They were at it again. We really, really shouldn't keep coming in here, thought Spike.  
  
Suddenly, the three vamps moved over, quick as lightning, and grabbed Liam, knocking him out.  
  
"Hey!" Spike tried to grab the leader. Damn, why can't I concentrate when in panic? He asked himself fleetingly before the two vampires holding Liam disappeared.  
  
The remaining vampire sneered at the ghost. "Watcha gonna do? Kill me?"   
  
Then he followed his compainions, leaving Spike alone. 


	7. Goodbye Kathy

------------------The Bad and the Hopeless chapter 7  
  
Disclaimer: Y'all know by now that Angel&co belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc.  
  
Author's note: Okay, so a bit of Liamy-ness for this chapter, I was just wondering, what really goes on inside the head of a twenty-one year old man from the eighteenth century  
  
that has just been captured by vampires wishing to carry out a apocolypse-inducing ritual?  
  
Dedication: To Jess, thanks for standing up for me in the face of nasty reviewers! Cheers, babe.-----------------  
  
It was a cold night. Colder than usual for L.A, but then Liam was not to know the standard temperatures, it was, to him, rather hot.  
  
He was standing in the middle of a cemetery, surrounded by gravestones, some of which's times his world had not experienced yet.  
  
His arms were bound with rope, and one of the demons who had smuggled him away from the Celtic Cross was watching him, guarding him out of one corner of his   
  
dead eye. The other two were piling wood onto a ring that they had made on the ground. A long pole rose from the woodpile, and Liam was forced to be reminded of the witch burnings he had witnessed in the streets of Galway.  
  
Was he going to be burned? he wondered, but his drink-addled mind could not place the fear. Would Angel, his vampire counterpart, save him?  
  
Or, more importantly, why did Spike not save him earlier, when he was supposed to be his friend? Liam kicked the ground, causing the guard to start. The vampire glared at him, then settled down to watch his companions build the fire.  
  
Friends! What were friends to Liam? Friends were your mates, who went drinking with you, offered you a pretty wench then stole her from you. Friends, no. They were no better than family.  
  
Family made Liam think of little Kathy. Barely out of babies' petticoats, but she stuck to him like a limpet to the shore. He thought for a moment, how lucky he really was. He had Kathy, and his mother, who loved him  
  
and mollycoddled him and gave him money for whisky though in her old mind she believed that he would give it to the poor. There were the other children, of course, his other siblings, and he shuddered to think that he could not remember their names.  
  
Had he really been here that long? what was stopping him demanding that Angel send him back straight away? he supposed it was his father. His father, who was always threatening to throw him out, cast him out onto the streets like old meat. He was a useless  
  
time-waster in his father's eyes, a bairn that should have been thrown into the sea as soon as he was born. A waste of space, that's what he was. Could have had a good job by the time he was seventeen, but no. Could have been a clergyman, or followed in his father's footsteps.  
  
He saw those cold eyes now, tormenting him. Those eyes which should have been kind and forgiving, not glinting with malice. No, family meant nothing to him. Not anymore, not here in America, in the 2st century. he could do what he liked. Why go home, when he could stay here and be loved, be valued.  
  
A hand in front of his face waved and brought him back to the real world, the cold night and the cemetery.  
  
"Was afraid you'd dropped off." A demonic face swam before him. The voice was hard and english.  
  
"Wouldn't want him to miss the fireworks, would we, boys?" The other two vampires sniggered.   
  
"Now, you listen to me, human." the voice dropped low as he snarled. "You're going to be good, and not talk while we perform the spell. otherwise....." he glanced round at his friends. "You're dinnr. Got it?"  
  
Liam nodded. he couldn't for the life of him understand why they had not simply gagged him, but he had been told to be quiet, and he'd be damned if he would be anything but.  
  
**********************  
  
Angel picked up the long, broad sword. "It's simple, then. I go after him."  
  
"Well, no," began Wesley, but Spike cut him off. "I want to come."  
  
Angel shrugged. "Fine. I don't even want to talk to you, Spike. You just imagine those bruises you'll get when you become corporeal, and join the party."  
  
Spike raised a ghostly eyebrow. His sire was clearly ticked. he hadn't meant for the vamps to get away with Liam, but he couldn't understand why he had panicked so much he couldn't fight back. He had, after all, socked that robot thing that had Gunn once. He slipped off the table and followed Angel as he came to the grim realisation that he shouldn't have been the one to look after their human charge.  
  
As they walked along the street, at a demon's pace, Spike turned to the vampire. "Um.. Peaches? How exactly are we going to find the little nipper?"  
  
"You tell me," Angel growled. "I can't believe you didn't follow him. You really are the worst creature of the night I've ever met."  
  
Angel glanced round, expecting a witty comeback but his childe was silent.  
  
"Anyway, I think we should check the demon bar. There could be others who saw it."  
  
Spike still said nothing, but nodded his head.  
  
They carried on until they reached the Celtic Cross, and stepped inside. Twenty demonic heads turned to face them. Several eyed Angel with disgust.   
  
Two Arak Demons stood on the stage, singing 'I will survive'.   
  
Spike hummed along to the tune as he and Angel walked across the room to the counter.  
  
"How can I help?" asked the demon behind the bar cheerfully, though he was eyeing the hilt of Angel's sword under his duster.  
  
Angel put his fist on the table and leaned over. "Three vampires kidnapped a friend of mine earlier tonight. I want to know where they went."  
  
The barman shrank back. "I don't know a thing about your friend," he stuttered. Angel had that effect on people.  
  
"You saw them, though. You saw them leave. Any idea where they went? Who could we talk to that would know? And you better tell me," he added as an afterthought, "Because I'm kinda angry."  
  
"Alright, keep your fangs on." the barman took a deep breath, though of course he didn't need to. "That guy, over there." he jabbed his thumb at the corner of the room where a vampire sat at a table in the shadows. "He came in with them. They looked pretty angry with him to tell you the truth."  
  
Angel slid himself off the bar. "Thanks."  
  
They walked over to the single table. The vampire looked up, and made a run for it, knocking over the table in an attempt to get out. he disappeared out of the back door, but Angel and Spike were on his heels.  
  
Three minutes later, he was lying at Angel's feet. Spike, who had his eyes closed and was concentrating hard, pinned him to the ground.  
  
"I want to know where your three friends are, Zeke." Angel said grimly. "I think you're going to tell me where they went with the human."  
  
Zeke, for that was the unfortunate vamp's name, struggled under Spike's unsteady but hard grip. "You.... think I'm going to tell you? I don't think so. I bet you want a piece of him yourself, right? Well, this one's special, and you're not going anywhere near him. They need him."  
  
Angel rewarded his speech with a rough punch on the jaw. "So, you're not going to tell me where they are? That's not very good, is it?"  
  
Zeke's eyes bulged as Angel took a small glass bottle out of his pocket. Spike grinned. "Things aren't looking so good for you, mate."  
  
Angel uncorked the bottle carefully. "Holy water," he observed quietly. "It would be interesting to see how quickly your fingers burn off, wouldn't it, Spike?"  
  
Spike said nothing. He was impressed.  
  
Zeke shuddered. "You wouldn't..."  
  
"And if you've heard of me at all, you know I'll do it." Angel finished, threateningly.  
  
"Okay.... don't hurt me. they've taken him to the cemetery to raise some old friend. A demon that can, and will destroy the world."  
  
"An apocalypse?" Angel asked, his face returning to its less vampiric form.  
  
"What else?" said Spike, shaking his head at the irony.  
  
"I know because I was here the last time it was raised. It was sent back by some slayer, one hundred and fifty years ago. I lived all those years."  
  
Angel rolled his eyes, and Spike raised his eyebrow once more. but Zeke took every oppertunity. He wrenched himself out of Spike's flimsy grip.  
  
"And I think I'll live a few more!" he cried, scrambling up. Angel grabbed him. "Any reason to keep this one?" he asked Spike.  
  
He didn't wait for an answer, but plunged the stake he held firmly into Zeke's chest.  
  
Wiping dust off his outfit, Angel beckoned to Spike. "to the cemetery we go, then."  
  
Spike was still in awe of the older vampire's performance back there. had he enjoyed getting in touch with his inner demon? Spike wondered.  
  
Had he relished at being able to torture something? play his little mind games with it?  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Huh?" he answered.  
  
"Pay attention. We've got to get there before they awaken this thing. If we don't.... I don't know why they need Liam, Spike, but the phrase human sacrifice springs to mind."  
  
Spike understood. he got up and followed his sire to the cemetery.  
  
*********************  
  
Liam watched wordlessly as the vampires picked him up and carried him, easily, onto the wood. They tied him to the stake. The leader, who's name appeared to be Throttle, loomed before him.  
  
"Now, Liam," he said, and Liam wondered fleetingly how the demon knew his name, "We want you to be a good boy and not scream when we burn you. Otherwise, I will be forced to make yur death excruciatingly painful."  
  
Liam nodded. he had learnt, now, that this was the best course of action. The vampires were going to kill him, he knew that much, and when they had done they were going to take Aserya out for dinner. At least, that is what he thought he had picked out from their conversation.  
  
Throttle stepped over the pyre, carrying a flaming torch. This is it, thought Liam. Goodbye, Celtic Cross. So long, Harrison Ford and daytime television. Goodbye, Kathy. This is the end.  
  
He never ended his last thoughts. Angel and Spike, like two avenging superheroes, tore through the gravestones to where he was propped. Angel swung his sword and took off Throttle's head, who's body promptly dropped the torch onto the wood and started to burn. Far from attacking Liam's saviours, the two other vampires scampered away.  
  
Angel pulled him from the stake and dragged him away from the flames. "Are you okay?" he asked. Liam looked at him. "I'm fine," he said shakily. "What happened?"  
  
Liam was a little unsure on his feet, but they managed to get away from the cemetery before the fire brigade showed up.   
  
"Can we go back to-"  
  
Liam didn't even finish his sentence before both vampires replied: "No."  
  
Liam grinned. "I was going to say, can we go back to Wolfram and Hart? I think I've had my share of drinking for this century."  
  
------------------------I will gladly pay you tuesday for some feedback today....  
  
Oh wait, today IS Tuesday. Well, I want feedback anyway. And make sure you actually read my story before reviewing... not that I'm saying any names *cough*  
  
Next up: Liam and Winifred make such a cute couple, don't you think?  
  
Avaducia,  
  
~*Elionwy*~ ------------------------------ 


	8. Losing his old ways

-----------------The Bad and the hopeless chapter 8!! Wow! I've got THAT far? Really?  
  
Disclaimer: Hell, you know I don't own them.  
  
Author's note: My Crminal Damage three-quarter-lengths fit me! Hoorah! bring on the mosh-pits. Ahem.  
  
I wanted to do fluff, so I'll do -some- fluff for this chappie, but some angsty angst too. Man, I'm mean. Can you tell I'm happy? KOORAH!  
  
Dedication: To that gimp who just threw a stone at my window. he wll pay.------------------  
  
He, of course, broke his promise. In fact, the next day Liam was sitting in his guest room watching Blazing Saddles and drinking beer.  
  
"You'll get square eyes, you know," said Fred, walking into the room.  
  
Liam sat up, putting the bottle on the table and reaching over to switch the television off. He'd never mastered the art of the remote.  
  
"Winifred! What brings such a lovely sight to my room, and so early in the morning?"  
  
Fred blushed. She was doing that a lot more than usual now that Liam was part of the scene.  
  
"It's one o'clock actually," she started. "But Angel wants you-"  
  
Liam grinned. "Aah, Captain Forehead. Well tell his majesty I'm a little busy." Fred shrugged, wondering how much time he'd really spent with Spike.  
  
"he needs your help, Liam. he's trying a way to send you back."  
  
Liam cast his eyes to the heavens. "I know he is, the bugger, and he can call me when he succeeds. Right now, I'd like to frazzle my brain with mindless 21st century rubbish. 'K?"  
  
"Don't be difficult." Fred crossed her arms.  
  
Liam looked up at her flirtatiously. "Aaw, Winifred. DOn't get angry with me."  
  
Fred rolled her eyes. "Whatever. If you aren't going to contribute to the cause-"  
  
but Liam's eyes were fixed on her legs. She cursed whatever satanic entity made her wear a short skirt and jacket that day.  
  
"Sooooo..... since when did a woman show her knees? because this century is turning out to be fun."  
  
"Liam!" Her single cry was that of the women he met in pubs in Galway. Shocked, but excited.  
  
But Fred did not act the way they did. She did not smile coquettishly and bat her eyelashes. Instead she slapped him.  
  
"Don't flirt with me. I'm going to Angel's office now and if you want to come, you can. otherwise-"  
  
He shrugged. "tell him I'll be around in a minute."  
  
"So, you all understand? Because this is very important." Angel surveyed the group standing in his office.  
  
"Mmm." Said Wesley.  
  
"Yes." Fred agreed.  
  
"Gotcha." Gunn touched his head in mock salute.  
  
Spike and Liam nodded. It was scary, how similar they had become.  
  
Angel frowned. "let's go through the plan, then."  
  
"Me and English cover you," Gunn began.  
  
"And I hang about and guard Mini-peaches." That was Spike.  
  
"And Winifred and I wait around, and if any vamps come we dust 'em." Liam finished.  
  
Angel nodded in approval. "Good. Now let's go kick some demon ass, people."  
  
And time went on in this way, with Liam becoming as much part of the group as Wesley or Fred. Not that he had any particular skills,  
  
just that he attracted people like L.A. attracted vampires. They couldn't help but like him, and he became the Xander of the group.  
  
Of course, if Xander had been a possessive alcoholic with a penchant for flirting.  
  
Angel worked hard to discover the secret of Liam's arrival, and found himself distanced from the gang. he began to be jealous of Liam. he thought that seeing as Liam looked some much like him, and he was more fun, that  
  
they had decided to ignore him. Who needed a handsome, broody vampire when you had a human that looked virtually the same? it made him depressed, and so he worked harder.  
  
Wesley started to notice that Fred spent less and less time with him and more and more with Liam. he himself couldn't help liking the irishman, he had a kind of charm that made you refuse to hate him. but Wesley was worried about Fred.  
  
Gunn went over to Liam's guest suite every evening, and showed him the wonderful world of gangster films.  
  
Spike started to look forward to Liam's strange drunken singing in the mornings, and watching him drink thirstily like he hadn't drunk for ages.  
  
Fred was afraid of the way everything Liam did or said brought prickles up her spine. She loved to watch the way he smiled, his mouth forming an arc in his face. It didn't look like Angel, not at all. She wasn't falling in love with Angel.  
  
She was falling for Liam.  
  
Liam himself took every day as it came. he had so far working out the function of the microwave, the coffee machine and the DVD player, though he couldn't for the life of him think what the letters stood for. He worried sometimes that he was losing his Irish accent, but  
  
worrying ages you by two years, or so that advertisment said on T.v. He was living the high life, basking in the light of Los Angeles. He had forgotten half his old troubles. What was a debt collector or a disapproving father to him? he was living in now.  
  
"Liam?" Winifred was his salvation. He marvelled that she survived with all these men, he knew how highly women valued each other's company, and so he cast his old, womanizing ways away and was as affectionate and caring as he could be.  
  
"Hmm?" he said, getting up. "Do you want coffee?" she often drank coffee.   
  
Fred sniffed. "No."  
  
"Hey, what is it, love? What's wrong?"  
  
he wrapped his arms around her, and she cried into his shoulder.   
  
He lifted her head gently. "What is it?"  
  
"It's Wesley. I'm w-worried about him."  
  
He led her to the couch. "Well, Winifred, it's hardly a crying matter, now is it?"  
  
"No, I suppose not." She swallowed. "It's just.. he's scaring me. And Angel too."  
  
Liam stiffened. he wasn't drunk, he was sober, and when he was sober Angel scared him too.  
  
"What have they done?" he asked urgently.  
  
"It's not what they've done, it's what they haven't done, if you see what I mean."  
  
He stroked her arm. "um... no. Not really."  
  
Fred looked at him. "They're acting strange. Whenever Angel looks at you, he shudders. And whenever Wesley.... he glares at you. What reason has he got to hate you? I mean, you're  
  
nice, you're funny, I suppose you *are* a bit untidy and careless..."  
  
Liam laughed softly. He's in love with you, the silly fool, he though to himself.  
  
"I'm not exactly the most straight-forward man on God's green earth," he said instead. "Don't ye worry yourself, love. I can understand Angel's problem, since when have ya ever seen someone who looks exactly like ya? And all that pain..."  
  
It was hard talking about someone he didn't really like, but Fred was convinced.  
  
"Thanks Liam," she whispered. "I hope he doesn't find out a way to send you back..."  
  
Me too, love, thought Liam, and rested his head on hers.  
  
----------------------------Feedback roasted and set on a silver patter.  
  
Next up: Spike faces a difficult decision.  
  
TTFN  
  
~*Elionwy*~ ------------------------------------ 


	9. Fate

------------------------The Bad and the Hopeless Chapter 9!!  
  
Disclaimer: All the lovely characters belong to Joss Whedon, that sacred man.  
  
Author's note: Aw, I was sick today :( but it means I had lots of time to write this!  
  
Ok, so y'all know I don't like Spike that much. Well, this chapter he gets an offer his way.  
  
Dedication: To Tom, thanks for the drawing of the vampire! Little brothers, don't you just love them?  
  
---------------------------------  
  
The back alley of Wolfram and Hart was quiet, dark, and smelt of smoke. As a result you could often find their resident ghost, Spike, sitting there contemplating.  
  
Today's thought was; If I was given another chance, would I take it?  
  
He addressed the brick wall in front of him. "Would I? Would I really? And what would I do? Go and find Buffy, or-"  
  
Many important matters were discussed here, with the rats and the occasional skunk. One of his favourites so far had been; What if I was given the chance to torture Peaches?  
  
Oh, he'd had fun with that one all right. But today was a solemn day, and this was a serious contemplation.  
  
"And," said Spike out loud, "What would I do to get it?"  
  
"What, indeed?" asked a voice behind him. he spun round, but he couldn't see a thing.  
  
"Are you another flipping homocidal ghost?" he moaned.  
  
"No, but you could say I'm a fairy godmother." came the voice.  
  
Spike shrugged. "As long as you're not a guy in a tutu."  
  
A shape stepped out from the shadows. The figure wore a long black cloak and its face was covered.  
  
Spike grinned. "Wow, that chic I-don't-want-you-to-know-who-I-am look. That is so this season."  
  
"I have come to give you your second chance."  
  
The vampire peered at the stranger. "I'm listening."  
  
"You must make a decison."  
  
"Uh huh." Spike picked an imaginary bit of fluff off his jeans.  
  
"Make a decision that will change your life and others."  
  
"Okay, can we move it along a bit, Grim?"  
  
"In order to become corporeal.."  
  
Spike's ears pricked. "Ah, now we get to the good stuff."  
  
"You must play Judas."  
  
Spike furrowed his brow. "that sounds- not so good. You know, I had an uncle called Ju-"  
  
"In exchange for your body, you must bring us the boy." The apparition disappeared.  
  
Spike bit his lip. "Oh, shit."  
  
*****************************  
  
"Liam?"  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"Could we watch something else now? I mean, I really like The Godfather and all-"  
  
"No problem, Winifred. We can watch whatever you like."  
  
Fred shifted herself so she was more comfortable in Liam's lap. "How about we go and see how Angel's doing?"  
  
Liam looked at her, startled, then began to laugh. "Angel? Why would we want to go and see him??"  
  
Fred sat up. "We never help him any more. It's like we've just given up."  
  
He swung his legs round and switched off the t.v. "I thought you said you didn't want to send me back..." he put on the face that she hated.  
  
She sighed, exasperated. "It's not that- look, I don't want you to go back, but we both know you have to- you belong in the 1700's, and you mean something to the people in your dimension. you can't just  
  
leave it all behind, Liam. You don't belong here. You can't saty here. And, as much as I hate having to do it, I'm going to find a way for you to get home."  
  
Liam looked at her. "Don't I mean anything to you? Doesn't this mean anything? Don't we?"  
  
She turned round, willing the tears to stay in her eyes where they belonged. "Don't give me that, Liam. It means so much it hurts. But it's wrong. This is wrong, everything's wrong. You shouldn't be here."  
  
"What about that thing people are always talking about? About how something controls every one of us, and what we do, and where we go? Fate." he grabbed her shoulders and wiped the incoming tears away. "Don't you believe in fate?"  
  
"No." Angel shook his head. "No, never, probably not, not on your life, no."  
  
"It won't be like last time. I promise I'll take better care of him. I swear, he'll not get away from me this time."  
  
"No way, Spike. Why are you so desperate to take him? I had to practically beg you last time."  
  
Spike's head jolted. "I'm not desperate! Um... I think I should spend some more time with the lil' nipper."  
  
"What," Angel said sarcastically, "So you can corrupt him?"  
  
"Oh, come on." Spike countered. "He's not a kid. If the boy's corrupted, that's his mother's fault, mate."  
  
Angel stood up angrily. "Don't you insult my mother."  
  
Spike smirked. "Well, a lot of good it'll do her, I thought you ate her."  
  
Oh, if Spike wasn't a spectral being, he would have been in hospital.  
  
Just then, to stop the argument, Fred and Liam walked in.  
  
"Liam, m'boy. How about me and you go to a bar tonight?" Spike said quickly.  
  
Liam's eyes opened wide. "Is that wise?"  
  
Spike was nonchalant. "probably not, but I thought you might want to get away from this place for a while."  
  
Liam looked at Fred. She looked back, sadly. He'd spent the last couple of weeks being a good boy. Pretending he was a saint. Saint Liam, the sober. He longed to drink, just this once. Sorry, Winifred.  
  
"Okay. If it's all right with the boss." he looked up at Angel, daring him to challenge himself.  
  
Angel looked away. "Look after yourself."  
  
While they walked down the deserted street, Spike wondered what was the difference between right and wrong. There couldn't be that big a difference, surely. He was about to hand over his friend to god knows what, probably an apocalypse-driven cult,   
  
and he felt almost no remorse. Of course, remorse was a human emotion, but he was sure the soul should have a hand in making him feel bad. He hadn't lost it, had he? It hadn't just drifted away one day while he was practising picking up coffee cups?  
  
No, of course not, because he didn't feel a sudden urge to bite Liam. he wouldn't have been able to if he tried, but that wasn't the point.  
  
"Where are we going? This 'ent the way to the Celtic Cross."  
  
Judas! False Witness! Traitor! His consience (there it was!) screamed, but Spike remained cool. "Nah, I think we should go some where else today. Me and Captain Forehead attracted a lot of attention there last time. best go to some other place."  
  
Liam shrugged. "'Kay."  
  
Really, Spike thought suddenly, the boy's so slow he deserves it. He wouldn't know a betrayal if it slapped him in his face.  
  
And then, that niggling, nasty little thought at the back of his mind; He trusts you. He trusts you completely and you're throwing it away.  
  
Spike ignored his one hope of salvation and motioned the boy to follow him.   
  
The soul tried to stay behind.  
  
------------------------I got feedback like the day is long...  
  
Well not really, and that's why I need your help. So click that little button there, you know you want to....  
  
Next up: Spike gets his wish- and a change of heart. But it's not always good to be corporeal when you've just sold your temperamental boss's past self off......  
  
Gotta go polish my entire house,  
  
*~Elionwy~* ------------------------- 


	10. Friends

---------------------The Bad and the Hopeless chapter 10!!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Spike, Angel, Fred, Lorne, Wesley etck. I did own those three Vampires, throttle and co, but I forgot to tell you! Ha.  
  
I also own the plot. Well, it was a challenge..... never mind.  
  
Author's note: Okay, so my internet isn't working, so sorry if these couple of chapters come up in a big bundle. Okay, so I know Spike sounded kinda evil in the last chapter but trust me he has a change of heart.  
  
Dedication: To Elfwitch :) ------------------------------  
  
They came to a dark alley, and a voice stopped them.  
  
"You have brought us the boy."   
  
Liam looked at Spike worriedly. "Spike...?"  
  
Spike looked away. "Yes. Can I have it now, please? The body?"  
  
"All in due time." the voice continued. "But first we must make sure that this is the one, and you haev not brought us a fake."  
  
Damn, thought Spike. Why didn't I think of bringing a fake?  
  
Liam tried desperately to get Spike's attention. "Where are we? Who's this, Spike? Spike? Spike, dammit!"  
  
Spike couldn't look at Liam's eyes. He knew that it if he did he wouldn't be able to go through with it.  
  
"What are you going to do with him?" Spike asked the darkness uncertainly.  
  
There was silence. Liam stepped back. "Spike, I'm going back now. I'm going to go."  
  
Spike swivelled his head towards the boy. "Stay where you are, Liam." he ordered sharply.  
  
Liam shook his head. He turned around and ran down the alley.   
  
Two demons appeared out of the shadows and grabbed him. He kicked and screamed but eventually gave up and hung his head, defeated.  
  
"Spike!" he gasped. "Save me!"  
  
Spike shuddered. He trusts you......  
  
"Sorry mini-peaches. I can't help you, can I?"  
  
Liam would not be put down. "If you concentrate..."  
  
Spike ignored him.  
  
"Spike! Go and get Angel! Go and tell the others I'm being-"  
  
But the disembodied voice cut Liam off. "Very well, Vampire. This is indeed the human we need for the sacrifice."  
  
A ghostly shiver ran up Spike's spine. Sacrifice???  
  
"Sacrifice???" Liam choked.  
  
"You may recieve your payment, now." the voice continued.  
  
Spike nodded, dumbstruck.   
  
"You have proved yourself worthy."  
  
"Ok. Can we... um... get on with it?"  
  
The figure in the black cloak appeared. "There you go. Now leave this place."  
  
"What?"  
  
The figure sounded slightly annoyed. "It is done. The corporealisation. NOw you may go."  
  
Spike put out his hand and tentatively touched the wall. His solid hand met brick and stayed there.  
  
"How?!"  
  
"It does not matter how the change came about. you must leave now so we can carry out the ritual."  
  
He turned to face Liam. There was no worry on the boy's face now, only anger. And hate.  
  
**********************  
  
Liam had not expected the betrayal. He had thought he was brought to this strange place for a reason.   
  
He was not a particularly religious man, as he was pretty sure the Lord did not approve of many of his ways.   
  
Somehow, he supposed, he'd expected friends in the 21st century to be different. After all, Winifred had told him that  
  
'friends' was the warmest word in the english language- but apparantly friends meant nothing in this day and age. He had trusted Spike.   
  
He had trusted the souled ghost with his life, and Spike had taken the word 'friends' and ripped it into little pieces.  
  
Liam had, obviously, got the wrong idea about friends. Maybe he and Spike weren't friends, maybe he and Fred were friends instead. Would Fred have sold him off for something she desired?  
  
If Spike had wanted his body so badly, did that mean that he, Liam, was only worth that? Was he a real person? Did he even exist, now, that he had been traded like cattle in a dimesnsion not his own?  
  
And, with philosophical thoughts too advanced for his time, Liam stood, defeated, gazing at the dark figure that condemned him to what looked like an almost certain death.  
  
Spike felt the sudden weight of his own body and looked around him, like he was seeing everything for the first time. He felt a pain in his chest. He realised, as he sunk to the floor, that he had committed a crime against human nature. Against human,   
  
non-human, demonic and any other nature. the bile rose in his throat. he was going to be sick, he realised, not repulsed at the scaly, rotted demons that held Liam, at the helpless look on Laim's face, or at the human's fate, but at himself.  
  
"Don't make a big thing about it, Vampire. DOn't you have people to bite?" The voice was harsh and cold, and Spike saw that the figure was not an entity or apparition, but a living (of sorts) being like himself. A being could make msitakes, have weaknesses, and feel remorse.  
  
He understood what he had to do, and flew out of the alley before he had time to think.  
  
Liam looked at the rapidly departing back of his companion. Yes, companion was a better word than friend. Companion meant someone you walked with, or fought beside. Friend was a much too strong word.  
  
The demons slackened their grip on him as the cloaked figure advanced towards him carrying a rope. he twisted it into a noose, and slung it around Liam's neck.  
  
Liam was not a religious man, but he prayed.  
  
------------------------feedback falling like snow on a crisp Winter's day.....  
  
Hehe. I'm mean, aren't I?  
  
DOn't worry, everything will be resolved, and yes, Spike finally realised how naughty he'd been.  
  
I wanted this fic to be light, but it's kinda ended up pretty heavy, never mind. Sorry about the noose bit. I just wanted a doom that Liam could relate to; they had a lot of hangings in the streets in Ireland then.  
  
Next up: Angel has to forgive Spike and save Liam. But... a few punches first wouldn't hurt, right?  
  
*~Elionwy~* ------------------------ 


	11. Forgiven

--------------------The Bad and the Hopeless Chapter 11  
  
Disclaimer: Hell, I'm not going to go into how many aspects of this fic I don't own.  
  
Author's note: Sorry about the Spike bashing, I'll try not to have too much for you Spike lovers.  
  
When I'm finished this fic, which will be soon hopefully, I'll be doing some B/A fluff and a flashback piece, with Darla,  
  
Spike and Drusilla. Enjoy chapter 11!  
  
Dedication: To Chontell, thanks for the assist. ------------------------  
  
Harmony sat at her desk. It was a boring day at Wolfram & Hart, there was nothing much for her to do. Wesley and Fred had gone to look  
  
for Liam, and Angel would be searching too once the sun had set.  
  
Of course, it was a boring day until a figure with a black jacket over his head whirled through the doors like a hurricane.  
  
He removed the jacket, and Harmony smiled. "Blondie bear!"  
  
Spike did not smile in return. She thought he was sick, he was trembling, he complexion was paler, well, paler than usual, and he looked like he was going to retch.  
  
Harmony looked worried. "Are you sick?" As soon as she said it she realised that was stupid. Ghosts can't be sick.  
  
Spike swayed as he straightened up. "Sick in the head," he said bitterly. "Where's Angel?"  
  
Harmony didn't ask any questions. You didn't, with these weird soulful beings. "He's in his office."  
  
"Right. Thanks." he didn't thank her with any sarcasm, she noticed. He headed towards the elvator, but instead of stepping through, he pressed the button and waited.  
  
Harmony gazed at him as he leaned on the wall for support. "Spike! You're-"  
  
The elevator door opened and he stepped right in, not looking back.  
  
********************  
  
Angel sat in his chair, resting his head on his interlocked fingers as Gunn explained their position.  
  
"No one's seen Liam at all, no one we know. He and Spike didn't go to the Celtic Cross last night."  
  
Just then, Spike himself slid into the office. "Angel..." He gasped an unnecessary breath. "I've done domething terrible."  
  
"Ah, Spike. The man of the moment." commented Lorne from the corner of the room.  
  
Angel ignored him. "What have you done?" he asked quietly, before Gunn could get started on his flurry of official questions.  
  
Spike walked across the room wordlessly. He pressed his palm against the smooth wood of Angel's desk.  
  
"You're corporeal!" Gunn exclaimed.   
  
Angel's eyes widened slightly. "What was the price?" He said, dark eyes searching Spike's mind.  
  
Spike hung his head. Angel knew, already, that he'd had to pay for his body. It was their sodding blood, he supposed.   
  
"Liam."  
  
Angel looked down, as Gunn rose angrily and Lorne looked surprised.   
  
"I guessed so. You'd better tell us where he is."  
  
Spike looked up. His grandsire still had his head close to the desk. He'd expected Angel to go mental.  
  
"Aren't you going to-"  
  
Angel shook his head, standing up. Gunn and Lorne looked like they'd been frozen, but he motioned to them and they sprang to life, muttering about various things they had to do.  
  
When they were alone, Angel walked to a cabinet and picked out a large, shiny knife.  
  
Is he going to use that on me? Spike panicked briefly before Angel tucked it into that mysterious Mary Poppins-esque coat that held everything, and turned to him.  
  
"Tell me where he is. We can't waste time. For all we know, he could be dying."  
  
Spike stared at him. "You're not going to..." he trailed off. The last part was obvious.  
  
"Saving Liam is more important. You better help, now." He tossed Spike an axe.  
  
Spike grasped in his hand, and followed the elder vampire out of the office. The sun was still in the sky, he marvelled that he could once again smell it.  
  
"Um.... I know I'm not in your good books, but how are we going to get there?"  
  
Angel turned sharply. "First of all, I don't know where we're going. Second, haven't you ever heard of the underground caverns of L.A? A hopeless atempt at building a subway in earthquake country."  
  
"Oh. No, I suppose not. That can take you anywhere in LA without seeing the sun?"  
  
Angel nodded. "Most places. But I need to know where we're going."  
  
Spike shifted the axe into his other hand. "Back alley behind Johnson's Hardware, it's just off this street. That's where I..... left him."  
  
His companion registered the details carefully. "We should be going then. No time to lose. They've already almost had twenty four hours. But he's not dead. I would know, if he was."  
  
As they walked swiftly down the stairs and down into the tunnels, Spike spoke. "Thanks for forgiving me. I mean... what I did.... thank you for not holding a grudge."  
  
The other vampire said nothing. After a while, he grinned humorlessly.  
  
"Who said I'd forgiven you?"  
  
************************  
  
Nothing was more scary than being alone, locked up in a room, with a bit of rope wrapped firmly around your neck. Well, to Liam, in his situation, anyway.  
  
He fingered the food they'd left him. Strange, crunchy flat circles that tasted of various flavours and potato. Some bread shaped into a round formation covered with little seeds, and between the two bits of this bread  
  
was a steak of meat, beef probably, that had been scorched in a crude manner. And a drink that had little bubbles, and when he drank had fizzed in his mouth so that he spat it out. He thought that maybe it had gone sour, but he didn't really want to alert the guards.  
  
There were strange little crackers that had perforated edges, and he remembered seeing these at one of his father's parties, to which rich, foreign merchants regularly attended. He split it open easily and a strip of paper fell out. He read it. The script was oddly visible, and did not have the look of ink, so it must have been  
  
done on one of these computers that Fred had tried to school him in. It read: 'Three times', and had a little smiling face next to it.  
  
They'd left him a book, too. History of Ireland. He supposed that was a sick joke, and tried to refrain himself from reading.  
  
Angel would come for him, he decided, and when he did Liam would be ready. They'd given him a chair, and a mattress, in case their preparations for the sacrifice took longer than they thought. He picked up the chair and banged it against the wall, no such luck. The vampires were asleep, so no one would hear him.  
  
He banged again. Nothing, the chair remained whole. Then he remembered the cracker, and thought, for the sake of it, he'd give it another shot. He hit it again, and this time it smashed into little pieces. one of the legs had been broken into a long thin piece with a sharp, pointed tip. This was what he had hoped for. Skilled as he was at whittling,  
  
they had of course left him with no sharp objects, and now, out of plain luck, he had a stake. He waited for what seemed like ages and ages. The dark, small room he was in stank of blood and excrement. he was, in fact, reminded of the old inn in Galway where he had done most of his drinking. He realised sadly that they had not left him any alcohol- maybe he could ask for a bottle as his  
  
last request. He levered himself onto the cold, gritty floor, wincing as the gravelly covering slid across his thinly clothed form like sandpaper. he heard a bolt being lifted from the heavily secured door.   
  
This is it, his whole body screamed. The door swung open, and in stepped two figures.   
  
Angel was covered in blood, goo and various other things he didn't know the name of and didn't care to learn about. His knife was, if it was possible, even more drenched than he was. They hadn't planned on the vampires blowing themselves up, he supposed it was a new, demonic kind of suicide bomber.  
  
Spike was less contaminated. He had been fighting with the cloaked figure in the next room when it happened. they had found a trapdoor leading under the alley, and the vampire gang underneath. They were preparing a ritual, with a wide circle on the floor and a post (he guessed) from which to hang their human sacrifice. It turned out that the mysterious figure was just an ordinary, third-grade sort of vampire.   
  
He had managed to convince the two younger (and stupider) demons that he was some form of dark god. His ambition was to release the demon Aserya, the same entity that he and Angel had saved the world from mere weeks before. As to how he had achieved Spike's corporealisation, he would not say. This he had told Spike as the souled vampire pinned him to the ground with a stake to his chest.  
  
Liam looked up.   
  
"Thank god!" he cried, scrambing up to stand next to his two rescuers.   
  
"Thank the Powers that Be," Spike muttered, but a glare from Angel quieted him. Liam held a rough stake in his left hand. Angel wiped his knife on the wall and cut the rope around Liam's neck, gently.  
  
"Let's go home." Angel said quietly, looking sadly on his battered human counterpart.  
  
******************  
  
After that day, Liam shunned everyone. Gunn was no longer invited into the guest suite for television, and even Fred saw much less of him.  
  
Spike had a good few bruises, and not because of the fight underground. Angel had been as true as his word and after a lengthy row and several blows around the head they had parted and went to their seperate rooms for quiet reflection.  
  
Liam lay on the couch, his mind wandering aimlessly. What sort of existence was this, being snatched away by beast after beast, night after night? He was not ordinary. he wanted to be. he wanted to be Liam O'Connor, of Galway. he didn't want to be Liam The Human, The one That All The Demons Want Because He Is The Key To Some Evil Resurrection. he didn't want to be part of a sentence where all the words had capital letters.  
  
He wanted to go home, somewhere where he was apart, where he didn't feel disconnected. he felt like a piece of jigsaw that got lost in someone else's box. The only part that fit into his life was Winifred, she was the only thing that made sense. he had put it to her many times that she must have been born in the wrong century. She laughed at that.  
  
he knew, though, one thing was clear. He was ready to go back.  
  
-------------------  
  
Aaaaah, the sound of feedback sizzling on a hot summer's day.....  
  
I've started writing Reels, a history fic starring Angelus&co, so this might not be updated as much as I would like. I also have lots of practising for this concert I'm doing, so it will progress slowly. Nearly finished though, I might only get one more chapter out of this.  
  
*~Elionwy~* 


	12. Grand Finale

------------------------The Bad and The Hopeless Chapter 12- The Final Chapter!  
  
Author's note: Well well well, this long story is finally at an end, I hope you've all enjoyed reading it!  
  
Dedication: Thanks Toni for helping me decide on the ending. Psst! Liam love! ---------------------  
  
"Liam?" Fred slipped herself into the guest suite. She'd been given the key a long time ago. "Liam? Are you here?"  
  
She crept to the doorframe that seperated the living area from the rest of the suite. Liam was slouched in front of the television, eyes glazed over,   
  
head rolling back onto the couch. An empty whiskey bottle dangled limply from his hand.   
  
"Oh, Liam..." He'd promised to stay off the drink. He'd be doing so well. But since the Aserya incident he'd fallen back to his old ways and kept away from her.  
  
Liam groaned. She pulled him up so he was in a sitting position on the couch, and touched his forehead tentatively. He opened his eyes and looked at her blurrily.   
  
"Wanna... go back, Fred... don't wanna stay here... no more."  
  
She drew back slightly, but nodded. It was what he wanted. She'd hated Pylea- it wasn't her world. And this wasn't his.  
  
"And this'll work?" Angel said, uncertainly. They'd had plenty of experience with spells Lorne had done that hadn't.  
  
"As sure as these are horns on my head, muffin. We just gotta... here." He produced a little bottle from his pocket.  
  
Fred's eyes widened. She was standing in the middle of the room with Liam, holding his hand. He was dressed in the clothes he had come through the portal in.  
  
"Oh no. Not bottles. You and spells and bottles don't mix, Lorne."  
  
Lorne grinned, but it was a nervous one. "It's just incense, ur... I think. Now Fredikins, you'll be wanting to step out of the circle." he sprinkled the contents of the bottle around Liam's feet.  
  
Fred hesitated, and Liam squeezed her hand. She looked beseechingly at him as she stepped out of the ring they'd painted on the floor.  
  
Lorne recited the spell. Fred looked away. She didn't want this. She'd never lost anyone like she was losing him. When she looked back up he was gone. Gone.  
  
Wesley touched her shoulder. "He's home now, Fred. It's what is best for him."  
  
She nodded. She knew what it was to be in a place you didn't belong. She glanced up at Wesley, who's hand was still resting on her shoulder. She looked around at Angel, who was biting his lip,  
  
head down, probably brooding already. She saw Lorne, who was grinning because his spell had worked. Gunn, who was mourning the loss of a friend.  
  
And Spike, who was Liam's traitor, his traitor and his best friend. he smiled weakily at her. They were her friends. And to them, she mattered.   
  
Epilogue  
  
"I can show you things you've never seen..." The blonde woman in front of him was beautiful, mysterious, intoxicating.   
  
Liam leaned forward to press into her as she bared her fangs towards his neck. Then he brought up his fist and smashed it into her chin. She reeled back, cursing.  
  
He adjusted his collar. "I've been to the twenty-first century, love. I've seen it all."  
  
And with that, he walked away from the alley.  
  
x End x 


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